Color Blind
by iloveromance
Summary: Set immediately after the last page of "Go Set A Watchman", Jean Louise (Scout) vows to make amends with Henry and take a chance at love.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: This is my first attempt at writing a story based on a book, but it is intended to be very AU. It's a continuation/variation of "Watchman" that came to me as soon as I'd finished the last page. Reviews are very much appreciated.**_

* * *

When they arrived, she slowed the car to a stop in front of her childhood home and turned off the ignition. She turned her head toward Atticus and smiled. "We're home."

Her father returned her smile. "So we are." Always trying to do things for himself, he turned his frail body and swung his legs out of the car. But when he tried to stand, he teetered, causing Jean Louise to scramble out of the car to steady him. She grabbed his arm, waiting patiently until he was able to stand fully upright. And then he gave her a gracious smile.

"Thanks, Scout. I guess I'm not as agile as I used to be."

She laughed. "You're seventy-two years old, Atticus. You're not supposed to be agile."

Atticus scoffed. "Well, I used to-."

Jean Louise chuckled. "You used to do a lot of things."

"Right. Before this damn arthritis took over."

She looked around, somewhat disturbed when she realized that although it felt as though they'd been walking for hours, they weren't even halfway to the front door. And Atticus seemed to realize it too, for his pace slowed considerably.

"Come on, Atticus." She said quietly. "Just a few more steps and we'll be there before you know it."

Neither of them said anything more as they moved on and suddenly, true to her words, she noticed that she was now helping him up the step that led to the wraparound porch.

Success.

"You made it." She said, beaming with pride. It was such a small, insignificant thing, but to her it was a milestone. Never had she been so proud.

It was odd, feeling this way and she wondered what had brought it on. Perhaps it was the fact that their relationship had changed in the course of only a few hours.

It wasn't enough; not by a long-shot. But it was a start, anyway.

She unlocked the door and they went inside. Everything was as it was before, bringing, as the sight of her former home always did, a flood of childhood memories.

Everywhere she looked, a memory was evoked.

"Do you want some coffee, Atticus?"

"Sure, that sounds fine, just fine, Jean Louise." He said. But before she went to make the coffee, she went to her father. "Did you want to read the newspaper while you wait?"

"Actually can you hand me that book?"

She looked around the room until she spotted a blue book sitting by the sofa. She crossed the hardwood floor and picked it up. "This book?"

"That's the one."

"Sure is an awful big book, Atticus." She winked.

Always one step ahead of her, he laughed. "I know an awful lot of words, Scout."

She nodded. "Right. I'll go and make that coffee now."

She headed into the kitchen and filled the coffee pot with water and began the task of making the coffee. Soon the heavenly aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the kitchen, prompting her to set two coffee cups on the counter instead of just the one; might as well take pleasure in it.

However, it would be a few more minutes before it was ready to be poured, so she sank down in the rickety wooden chair, content to take time to ponder her thoughts. So much had happened in such a short time. She'd been betrayed by two, no three men she loved; Henry, Atticus and her Uncle Jack but it took a strike across the mouth from her strong-willed Uncle Jack to make her see the light.

And boy had it worked.

My God, had she really become that blind to the world around her, and worse, to the people closest to her in the tiny town of Macomb Junction, Alabama?

Suddenly the thought of being alone didn't seem like such a good idea. Having the chance to think only made things worse; and things couldn't get any worse than they already were, even when she'd made amends with Atticus. There had to be more; much more.

She sprang from the chair and q quickly poured her father a cup of steaming coffee. And then she carefully walked into the living room where he was sitting in his chair engrossed in his book. "Here you are, Atticus. Nice and hot just the way you like it."

"Thank you, Scout."

She stood staring at him for a moment. And then she returned to the kitchen to pour her own cup of coffee, returning quickly to the living room. She could feel him, watching her as she sat down on the sofa next to him and began to quietly sip her coffee. She deliberately kept her gaze straight ahead, staring out of the window at the curtains blowing softly in the breeze. Calpurnia must have left the window open again. But the breeze was welcome against the stifling heat.

"How's your book?" she asked, after a long uncomfortable silence.

"What? Oh, right. It's fine. Very interesting."

"What's it about?"

"It's about the Civil War." He explained. "Such a trying time for so many people. Why I remember in school we talked about this-."

His voice trailed away, replaced with unsettling voices in her head. And the voices were what had her springing to her feet. She gulped down her coffee, wincing at the pain the hot liquid brought to her sore mouth.

"Scout what's wrong?"

"Nothing Atticus. I-I need to go."

"What, now?"

"Yes, now!"

"What's your hurry?"

"There's something I need to do. I'm sorry, I really have to go."

She started for the door, moving faster when she saw him stand. "Atticus, don't help me. I'll be fine, okay? I'll be back later."

"But Scout-."

Hot tears stung her eyes as she rushed out of the house and to her car. And as she started the engine she could see him watching her through the screen door, most likely wondering what had gotten into her.


	2. Chapter 2

As she drove, the voices in her head became louder and louder until it began to physically hurt. The increasingly bad headache was soon followed by the return of the throbbing in her mouth. Her swollen lip had finally numbed enough to bring forth a new stinging sensation. And it was this pain that succeeded in increasing her tears.

The tears, she knew, were more than tears for the physical pain she was feeling but for her aching heart. And for the hundredth time since leaving Atticus' place, she was asking herself how she could have been so stupid.

She turned onto Henry's street no wiser to the answer than she had been when she left Atticus'' place. The only thing she knew; the only thing that mattered was that she had to talk to Henry right away. She prayed that he was home. Because if he wasn't, she knew that she would shatter into a million pieces.

Her heart was beating rapidly while she pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine, praying once again that he would be at home. In a few moments she would know if there was even the slightest chance that they could have a future together. And if it turned out that they wouldn't have a future together… well, she didn't to think about that.

Minutes later she was knocking on his door, wearing her heart on her sleeve. Please be home, please be home, please be home… she repeated, willing the words to be true.

And like an answered prayer the door was opened.

His face, as she fully expected, registered shock and surprised at the sight of her standing on his doorstep like a waif.

"Jean Louise…"

Suddenly she felt incredibly shy around this man with whom she had shared so much. "Henry, I-."

"What are you doing here?" His words sounded like an accusation rather than a question.

"I-I…" She swallowed hard, having no real answer to his very valid question. What _was_ she doing there? She searched her mind for a suitable answer when he spoke again, his expression changing to one of anger and annoyance.

"You know, Jean Louise, you've got some nerve showing up here after-."

Feeling humiliated, she hung her head and started to cry. "I know, Henry, and I'm sorry. I'm so-."

"Jean Louise-."

She cried harder, gazing up to see his hardened expression become softer through her tears. And then she was in his arms, quietly comforted by his touch. But guilt and shame overwhelmed her, despite the gentle way he was moving his hand in circles on her back. But the guilt and shame overwhelmed her.

Sobbing almost uncontrollably, she pulled away from him and turned to face her car. It had been a mistake to come here. A very big mistake.

"Jean Louise, come on honey, it can't be that bad. What happened?"

"I can't… do this Henry! I just… I can't! I'm sorry! Goodbye!"

"Jean Louise, wait!"

But she was already running back to her car. There was only one place that she wanted to be right now. Only one place that she should be. Far, far away from the people she loved.

Atticus, Henry…

She didn't deserve them, either of them. She didn't deserve anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

She was almost to her car when she felt him come up behind her and she didn't dare turn around, even when she felt his hands on her back. "Go away, Henry!"  
Forcefully he turned her to face him; but not too forcefully. He would never do that. He was nothing like her Uncle Jack. She shuddered at the memory that followed.

"No. Not until you tell me what this is all about, Jean Louise! You know, I don't get you at all! We're in love, or at least I thought we were in love, but now… What the heck has gotten into you?"

She broke free of his grasp. "Don't you get it, Henry? I'm a horrible person! I'm-."

His eyes widened. "Mother of God!"

"What?"

He was staring at her now, his eyes wide with surprise. "Good Lord, Jean Louise, what happened to you?"

"Henry, I don't know what you're talking ab-."

"I'm talking about this!" He yelled, his smooth fingertips reaching out to brush her lips. It was the gentlest touch imaginable, but she winced in pain and the throbbing began all over again. "You're hurt!"

She nodded, ready to come clean. "I-I know. I-."

"Come on, get in the house." He ordered.

Against her fierce protests, he gently took her by the arm and led her down the sidewalk.

"Henry, where are you talking me?"

"Just come on, okay?" He snapped. "It's the least you can do, Jean Louse, showing up here unannounced!"

New tears snaked their way in rivers down her cheeks and she sniffled but he didn't seem to notice. He was too busy dragging her into the house and through the kitchen door.

"Sit here." He ordered, pointing to a tall metal chair with sparkly off-white plastic cushioning that sat alone on a wall adjacent to the ice box.

"But-."

"Aw for God's sake, come on, Jean Louise, just do it, all right?"

Wearily she sat in the corner and looked at him. "Henry-."

"Just hang on. I'll be back in a sec."

"Okay, but-."

She watched him curiously as he crossed the black and white tiled checkerboard tiled floor to the icebox and opened the door. A blast of cold air filled the kitchen making her shiver. And then he opened a drawer and removed a dishtowel.

"Henry, what on earth are you doing?"

He held out his hand to silence her. "Just hang on, okay? I'm not finished yet."

She waited, wondering what in God's creation he was up to, but said nothing more. Her mouth was hurting anyway, most likely a result of too much talking. But she still hadn't said what she'd come here to say.

Seconds later he closed the ice box door and went to her. He pulled up a chair, dragging it across the floor where it made a screeching sound and sat down beside her. And then in the most romantic gesture imaginable, he lovingly held out the blue checkered towel, bringing it slowly to her lips. She flinched at the touch, realizing that the towel was full of ice and the touch of cold made her flinch.

"Just be still." He said softly, gently pressing the freezing towel against her swollen mouth. "Hold still and you'll feel better soon. The ice should help the swelling."

"But Henry-."

"Shhh..." He ordered. But the sound wasn't harsh. It was gentle, as was the way he was stroking her hair.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice muffled by the towel.

"Why do you think, Jean Louise? It's not for my own benefit. It's because I love you! Now stop talking and keep this ice on your mouth! "

She shook her head. "No. I don't deserve you, Henry! I don't! I don't deserve anyone! I-."

Annoyed, he threw his hands in the air and then pulled the towel filled with ice away from her mouth, sighing deeply. "Look, if you're gonna keep on talking; you can start by telling me how this happened."

"No, Henry, I can't!"

"You can and you will!"

"But-."

"For God's sake I thought you trusted me!"

"I do, Henry, you know I do! But-."

"No _but's_ Jean Louise. Just tell me for God's sake!"

She swallowed hard, knowing that she had no choice but to tell him. If they were to have any future together at all, she had to tell him the truth. This was the moment that she'd been dreading. It was not going to go well. Not well at all.


	4. Chapter 4

She was silent for a long time and she could see that he was becoming angrier and angrier. His arms were folded across his chest, leaving her to be the one in charge of holding the ice against her mouth. Telling him the truth was the very least she could do, for the ice was certainly helping to numb the pain.

"Well, are you going to tell me or ain't ya? Damn it Jean Louise, I haven't got all day!"

Slowly she lowered the blue checkered towel filled with ice from her mouth. "Henry if I tell you, you've gotta promise me something."

But as she expected, he shook his head. "No. I ain't promising nothing! Not until you tell me how in the heck this happened."

"But Henry-."

" _But Henry_ _nothin_ '!" He mocked, making her wince, not from the pain but from the way her words sounded coming from his mouth.

"Henry, stop mocking me, please!" She cried.

"Not until you tell me what the heck happened? For God's sake why are you so afraid to tell me? Hell, we used to tell each other everything, Jean Louise! What's changed?"

"Nothing, Henry. I just-."

"What?"

She hesitated, almost afraid to look at him. "Henry, please don't make me do this, please!"

"Why?"

"Because I-."

"Look, if you don't tell me who done this, I'll-."

She held up her hand, knowing full well what Henry was capable of. "All right, all right! All right! It was…"

"Yeah?"

"It was...Uncle Jack."

The minute the words were out, she felt a mixture of relief and guilt that was so great, she wanted to sink into the floor. But she wasn't prepared for Henry's reaction.

His eyes widened and he rammed his fist against the wall, wincing in pain at the contact.

"Damn!" He said, shaking his hand. Immediately Jean Louise removed the ice pack from her mouth and moved it toward his hand, but he pulled his arm away. When she looked at his face again, there was an expression of anger there unlike any she'd ever seen.

"What the hell?" He yelled startling her with the outburst.

"Henry, calm down!" She cried. "He didn't-."

"Damn it! I'll kill him with my bare hands!"

She gasped in horror, knowing that he was fully capable of doing it. "Henry, no! You're not going to do anything!"

"What do you expect me to do, Jean Louise? Stand around and let that jackass hurt you?"

"But I _deserved_ it!" She cried.

"No! Nobody hits my girl, you got that? And no woman deserves to be hit! A man should never strike a woman for any reason! Especially not the daughter of his brother!"

She was sobbing into her hands now, as the towel that was filled with ice hit the floor. She could hear the ice sliding everywhere, certain to make a mess, but right now neither of them was thinking about that. It was all but forgotten.

"Jean Louise-."

"Don't you get it, Henry? It's my fault! All of it!"

"What in the blazes are you talking about?"

"It's _me_!" She cried. "I'm the one who was too stupid to see what was right in front of my face! That is until Uncle Jack literally smacked some sense into me! And believe me, I deserved it! I was…. I was _horrible_ to Atticus, Henry! Just _horrible_! We may not have had the greatest father/daughter relationship, but he didn't deserve the way I treated him, Henry! No one does! I love him, Henry, I-."

The settling of his arms around her was warm and inviting, not to mention completely unexpected. She expected him to hate her, to order her out of his house and out of his life. But he did nothing of the sort. He just stood there and held her. And it was this warm and wonderful feeling that had her sobbing uncontrollably into his strong chest while his hand moved up and down her back, making her heart beat faster.

God how she loved him.

After a long moment she lifted her head.

Oh God…

She loved him. She really and truly loved him.

"Are you all right, Jean Louise?"

Her mouth curved into a smile. And then his mouth curved into a smile as well.

"Jean Louise, what are you up to?"

She laughed. "No good as usual."

"What are you talking about?"

She pulled him toward her, taking his hands in hers. "Marry me, Henry."

"What?"

"Marry me."

His eyes widened in surprise. "A-are you sure?"

"Yes! I want to marry you and live in Maycomb. It's where we belong. It's where we've always belonged. It's where Atticus is. It's home. Please, Henry. I need you."

He brought his lips to hers for the gentlest kiss imaginable. But she forgot all about the pain as she deepened the kiss, making it the most wonderful, sweet and perfect kiss imaginable. And when the kisses ended, they began all over again. They parted, breathless and stared into each other's eyes, both of them smiling.

"So…" she said slowly, climbing off of the chair. "Does this mean that you accepted my proposal?"

Henry laughed out loud and impulsively put his arms around her. He lifted her feet off of the floor and spun her around, making her laugh with delight. And then he gently lowered her feet to the floor, kissing her softly and gently as she smiled and touched her forehead to his.

He kissed her cheek and then her chin and finally her lips before finally answering her question.

"What do you think?"

 _ **THE END**_

 _ **A/N: I know there are a few of you who don't like the character of Henry at all but I really liked him when I read "Watchman" And this story literally came to me right after I'd finished the book. I know he's not in the classic "To Kill A Mockingbird" but he is prominent in "Watchman" which I consider a sequel to "Mockingbird" rather than a prequel. I'm glad that Harper Lee saved her drafts of "Watchman" and was willing to share it with the world. Thank you all for reading and for your reviews.**_


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